Bed Side Burden
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: This time, it's not spirits. It's just normal, human illness. ... Which doesn't really make it better for poor Watanuki. [Sick!Watanuki, caretaker!Doumeki.]
1. Chapter 1

**Bed Side Burden**

His legs felt like lead.

Which may have not been so bad - he'd struggled through worse, he could struggle through heavy limbs! - if it hadn't been for Yuuko and the pork bun harping at him from the moment that he'd woken up for _Watanuki's light and fluffy pancakes Watanuki's light and fluffy pancakes!_ (Maru and Moro had gotten into the fray.)

Now his legs felt like lead and his head was throbbing.

"They're the ones who drink all night long and _I'm_ the one who wakes up feeling like I spent the night in the liquor cabinet! This just isn't fair, can't they see how much of a monster they are, demanding pancakes without fair warning the moment that I crawl out of bed-"

"Hey."

That voice. It wasn't high-pitched and cheerful and beautiful. It wasn't that happy voice that he'd come to sometimes expect on morning walks. It was just that monotone, flat, _disgusting_ voice that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" he bristled. "I go completely out of my way for Yuuko's breakfast and it makes me late on my way to school and you're _still_ here-" He spun around to face the arrogant brute of his companion, but came to a sudden stop as dizziness made his head swim.

"... Is something the matter?"

Watanuki knitted his fingers into his hair, rubbing at his forehead. "No... I'll be fine."

Doumeki stared back at him unblinkingly, face impassive. It was that same, expressionless face that the smug bastard always wore.

Vertigo forgotten, his hackles rebounded. "Don't just stand there with that dumb look on your face! I swear, your face is bad enough to make a baby cry!" he retorted, turning to storm away. "Why are you so late this morning, anyway?"

"Cleaning."

Watanuki scowled, clutching the bento closer to himself. "Well, can't you clean late on some other day? Why do you have to walk with me?"

"Spicy chicken."

He was giving him orders for lunch again?! "Not today, you jerk!" he retorted, bounding ahead as quickly as his feeling-like-lead legs could carry him.

* * *

"Are you okay, Watanuki? You look pale."

"Oh, no, Himawari-chan, I'll be fine."

"He doesn't look good."

"Neither do you, who asked you, you stupid jerk!" Watanuki groaned, clutching at his knees. How could Doumeki get more irritating? It was like he got worse by the day. Either that, or Watanuki's nerves were shot, which was entirely possible today. He felt horrible.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Himawari needled, leaning in. "You're not pushing yourself too hard again, are you?" Her face was etched with concern.

Watanuki's heart was filled with happiness. He wanted to jump to his feet and parade around to prove he was fine. He didn't feel like doing that, though, so he supposed it was a moot point. He shook his head instead. "Uh uh."

"Okay... if you're sure," Himawari said slowly.

Watanuki smiled wearily.

Doumeki's chewing seemed impossibly loud.

"... D'you have to _chew so loudly?_ It's called closing your mouth when you chew, you ungrateful brute!" Watanuki sighed, slumping forward to put his head in his hands. "I'm too tired for this."

When he looked up again, Doumeki was still chewing on his egg roll, except he was looking at him intently.

"... What are you looking at?" Watanuki grumbled.

"Nothing." Doumeki popped the last of his roll in his mouth, swiping his glass to hold out to him. "Tea."

"Can't you get your own!?"

* * *

By the end of the day, his legs not only felt like lead and his head was pounding, but he was sincerely doubting his ability to get himself to Yuuko's shop before he crashed. Of course, she'd probably want food, and drinks, and more drinks, and the cleaning done-

Watanuki sighed, closing his locker.

"Hey."

" _Seriously_? Why are _you_ here?" Watanuki clutched his bag between tense fingers. "Don't you have some club to get to or something?"

"No."

Watanuki glared up at Doumeki. "Yes, you do, it's Wednesday. I thought you had practice for some big meet coming up."

"No."

"Uck, whatever." Watanuki walked around him, striding for the front doors. "Do what you want. If you get thrown off the archery club, don't come looking to me for any consolation."

That might have been the end of the conversation, as well as the termination of Watanuki's daily dose of Doumeki for the day, if it hadn't been for the fact of the long-legged stiff dogging his footsteps to the entrance, through the front doors, out the gate, and down the street. But there was no rest for the weary, or the sick and tired, because the long-legged stiff with his obnoxious breathing and no talking was following him down the street.

 _Why_ did Doumeki's stop _have_ to be on the way to Yuuko's shop? _Why_?

Surely the universe hated him. Surely that was evident from the spirits that he saw daily, whether they were small or large. Surely that was evident from the way that his head was throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and the way that exhaustion had crawled into his body and made him breathless too quickly. _Surely_ -

Watanuki came to an abrupt stop, passing his fingers against his lips.

"... What's wrong?"

For some reason, Doumeki's voice didn't grate on Watanuki's nerves as much as it might have a few moments ago.

"I... don't know." Watanuki swallowed, reluctant to allow his lips to part to speak the words. The nausea was new, and nearly debilitating, drawing him to a stand-still even though he wanted nothing more to get back home, or to Yuuko's shop. "I feel..." he trailed off listlessly.

Doumeki's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not well."

"... Yes," Watanuki muttered, leaning against the wall slightly. "Well, no, I'm just a little tired, but I'm... I'm sure I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Have you seen any spirits lately?"

Watanuki shook his head, and stopped when it made the world spin. His legs felt wobbly. He pressed his palm flat against the wall. "Just the usual small ones, nothing... out of the ordinary."

"So, why-"

His legs really were too weak. Just as suddenly as the nausea had come on, the weakness had, too. Maybe it was because he'd stopped. Maybe it was because he'd taken a break to lean against the wall and now he couldn't get back into the swing of things, but he felt his legs crumple before he could do anything.

"Watanuki!"

He was saved the mortification of being caught in Doumeki's arms; his legs giving out seemed to take Doumeki by surprise as much as it did him. He collapsed onto his knees and caught himself with his hands on the pavement, watching it wobble under his gaze.

"Watanuki." Doumeki was in front of him, level with his gaze. Crouched in front of him, apparently... "Hey! Stay with me."

A warm hand pressed against his forehead. It was a familiar feeling, marred by an unfamiliar hand against his skin. He supposed it should have irritated him, but he didn't have the energy just then. His eyelids drooped.

"Watanuki...!"

* * *

 **A/N: It's been a long time since I've written for xxxHolic. But I got back into the anime and now I'm re-reading the manga, and I wanted to write a (gen? could be pre-slash? I waver on the status of their relationship xP) sickfic. No real place as to where it's set, but probably before Kei/the Doumeki-Watanuki eye exchange. It'll be multi-chapter, so look for new chapters soon!**

 **I do not own xxxHolic; thanks for reading, and any of your comments will be appreciated. Stay tuned!**


	2. Chapter 2

The world was blurry.

It took Watanuki a few, _long_ minutes to realise that everything was blurry because his glasses had been taken away, but looking for them required effort that he didn't have to spend. He could make out the surroundings enough to know that this wasn't his house. It wasn't Yuuko's shop. It was-

"Yuuko told me to bring you here."

Right. No wonder the place was familiar.

"Doumeki," he muttered, tilting his head. The headache intensified with the movement, making the nausea swim back and the vertigo spin wildly. "... Ow."

"You've got a fever."

Watanuki sighed thinly, draping his arm over his eyes. "... Wonderful." The darkness helped. His eyes hurt, and the light hurt his head.

"Yuuko told me to take care of you."

It was said in the flattest tone of voice, and it still managed to irk Watanuki's nerves. He wanted to growl about it, but he laughed humorlessly instead. "Of course she did... She revels in my misfortune... time spent with you..."

Doumeki didn't respond, but there was rustling of fabric and the steps of stocking feet on the floor that led away seconds later. Watanuki didn't expect Doumeki to say anything. He didn't know what he even would. He didn't know why he had to stay with Doumeki while he was sick, maybe when he got enough strength back to get to his feet, he'd leave then...

"Here."

Watanuki tilted his arm away to look up. He hadn't heard Doumeki come back, but he was standing next to him now.

"You should take these." Doumeki knelt down, holding out a box to him.

Watanuki blinked at it blearily before reaching up to take it wearily. He squinted at the box, felt for his glasses, and slowly watched as the box came into clarity after he had put his glasses on. Cold medicine. "... Oh." He blew out a breath, fumbling to peel open the box.

Doumeki stood up without another word and padded away, vanishing around the corner towards the way of the kitchen.

By the time that Watanuki managed to pop two of the tablets out of the packaging, though, Doumeki was back with a cup in hand.

"Tea," Doumeki said flatly.

For one, wild moment, Watanuki thought that Doumeki was demanding snacks and drinks from him again. But then he realised that the tea Doumeki was talking about was in the cup he was holding, and he was offering it to Watanuki. Doumeki was giving _him_ tea.

"It's just lukewarm."

Watanuki swallowed a huff and hauled his uncooperative body into a sitting position, taking the tea. He put the pills in his mouth and chased them down with a gulp before they could turn to chalk on his tongue. They went down fine, but it left Watanuki with a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn't think he should drink any more of the tea just then.

"You should drink." Doumeki, the know-it-all...!

Watanuki had never handled being ill very well. Even if it was just the most simple cold, it wedged into his immune system and tore him down, eating away at his defenses until there was little left. It was as mentally taxing as it was physically. Maybe that was why his hands shook as he hastened to put the cup down despite Doumeki's suggestions.

And he didn't really want to puke in front of him, either. He was positive that he would never hear the end of it.

"Don't be an idiot."

"I can't-" His explanation was cut short as his shaking fingers and Doumeki's reaching hand settled the cup off balance, spilling what lukewarm tea had been in the cup onto the blanket and floor. "Doume-" He had to stop talking just then, his protests cut off once again, as burning acid stung the back of his throat and he clamped his hand over his mouth. _No_ , he could _not_ throw up-

"Don't throw up."

Watanuki muffled a weak laugh against his hand. How could Doumeki always so calm about everything? "... I'm not going to," he mumbled, slowly lowering his fingers. _If I can help it._

Doumeki stood up again, silently leaving the room and coming back with a cloth to clean up the spilled tea. He was methodical. And silent. It was unnerving. And irritating. Watanuki would have complained about it or just cleaned it up himself, but he'd dropped back into the futon in an effort to stop his upset stomach from getting worse.

The blanket moved. Watanuki clung onto it stubbornly before realizing that Doumeki was the one moving it. "What?" he asked wearily.

"It's wet."

"It's just a little wet. I'm okay," Watanuki muttered.

"It's wet," Doumeki repeated, unceremoniously tugging the blanket free of Watanuki's fingers without another word.

"Ugh, Doumeki." Watanuki shivered. He was sure that it wasn't as cold as it felt like, he was sure that that was the fever, but it didn't help when the blanket was whisked away.

"Wait."

"Great..." Watanuki sighed, folding his arms over his eyes again. Sleeping over at Doumeki's temple was the last thing that he had wanted to do. He wondered if Yuuko wondered how he was. He wondered if she would make him pay for the missed day of work. Who was he kidding... Of course she would. This was Yuuko he was talking about.

"I have clothes."

Watanuki tilted his head towards the voice, towards Doumeki, who was standing in the open shoji unfolding a fresh blanket. "And?"

"If you wanted to change," Doumeki said.

"Oh. I'm okay."

"You're spending the night."

"Don't say it so matter-of-factly," Watanuki griped.

"Do you want to walk home?" Doumeki replied bluntly.

He wanted to argue. He really, really did. Instead, he sighed. "No," he breathed. He didn't want to believe it himself. Maybe, if he said it quietly, it wouldn't be true-

The blanket landed on the floor next to him, something indigo twisted within its folds. Watanuki clumsily pulled them apart, finding the indigo pieces to be a jinbei set. Unsurprising traditional, but there was something nice about it, too. Even a brute like Doumeki could do traditional. It was pretty obvious why, but, then... well, Watanuki only had one jinbei, so weathered that he barely wore it anymore.

"You can change." Doumeki stepped out of the room, sliding the shoji closed.

Watanuki sighed. It was going to be a long night. He could just tell.

It was a struggle to get out of his uniform and into the jinbei, and his movement only exacerbated the sickness clinging to his body. By the time that he'd gotten the jinbei tied securely, he was woozy again and unsteady on his feet. He wanted to splash some cool water on his face and use the toilet before he went back to sleep, though, so he was trying to coax himself into _just a few more minutes and you can crawl back to Doumeki's extra futon like the pathetic person you are._

"Where are you going?"

Watanuki jumped, and then scowled. "I thought you were leaving so I could change." He leaned his shoulder against the wall. He couldn't stop shaking.

Doumeki's eyes swept down Watanuki's body, and then back up, in a exaggerated motion. "You've changed."

"Yeah, well, how did you know I was finished?" He huffed, turning away to squeeze his eyes shut briefly. He hoped the medicine kicked in soon, or that it at least had something in it that would make him sleep. The sooner this was over, the better.

Mr. Blank Slate was back - not that he ever really left! - as Doumeki stared at him pointedly. Watanuki wasn't sure of the meaning, although it seemed to ooze _really?_ without the words being necessary.

"Where are you going?" Doumeki repeated.

"Nowhere, I-"

"You need to be resting."

"I'm going to wash up!"

Doumeki narrowed his eyes.

Watanuki still didn't know what he wanted from him with the beady-eyed look, so he ignored him in favor of heading to the toilet. His legs were shaky from the strain of getting dressed, and his feet were too heavy. It was going to take ages at this rate.

"Just ask."

Watanuki glanced up, again startled by Doumeki's presence so close to him. He was standing just a few paces away, although evidently interested in something else at the other side of the room given the steely gaze locked onto whatever else, hand extended to him. Watanuki stared at Doumeki's extended hand blankly.

"... No way! I'm not holding onto your hand again, the spirit parade was enough!" Watanuki scrabbled against the wall for purchase, planning on putting as much space between him and Doumeki as possible as quickly as possible. "Never again, you creep!"

But the fever ravaging his body had other plans. Before he'd gone five feet, he felt his knees buckle again. The expected smack of his nose hitting the tatami didn't come though; the pressure of fingers around his arm caught him and hauled him back up before he could fall.

"Moron."

"What did you just-" Watanuki gave up halfway through his complaint, shoulders slumping. He was just too tired.

"Lean on me."

Doumeki didn't look at him as he said it. If anyone else had been there, Watanuki wouldn't have believed that Doumeki had been the one to say it, he still looked completely unfazed as he stared ahead. His poker face really got on his nerves. But maybe... maybe unemotionalism was a good thing for him right now? Doumeki... probably... wouldn't... make a big deal out of this, or anything, because he was always so straight-faced. ... Probably.

Watanuki worried at the inside of his cheek. Maybe just this once. After all, he might die and not have to live to face Doumeki again, it was possible. He reached out for Doumeki's arm. Hesitated. And then let Doumeki be a human crutch, taking on the weight that Watanuki couldn't carry right now alone.

* * *

 **A/N: Let me just say that the spirit parade was one of my favourite episodes in S1. *o* I love the DouWata bond, whether you ship it or not.**

 **Still don't own xxxHolic. CLAMP does.  
Thanks for your reviews and stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

Watanuki opened his eyes slowly, stirred out of unconsciousness by coldness on his forehead. He felt positively frigid. He realized belatedly that the cold on his forehead was from a bag of ice, pressed against his forehead gently by Doumeki.

"... Wow," he croaked. Doumeki looked at him immediately. "... Your bedside manner isn't actually horrible," Watanuki continued. His throat hurt.

"Hm." Doumeki removed his hand, leaving the bag balanced on Watanuki's forehead. "I haven't really had any practice. Guinea pig."

"Oh." Watanuki blew out a breath. "Great." He rubbed at his eyes. "What time is it...?"

"Just past one."

Watanuki tried to sit up. "In the morning?"

Doumeki sat back. "Yes."

He pressed his hand against the bag of ice. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"You should be, too," Doumeki replied, almost sounding critical. Like he had any room to complain. He wasn't sick with a fever, and any inconvenience this was causing him was just payback for all the inconveniences that Watanuki went through to make Doumeki's lunches, or run errands to and from his temple, or having to put up with his ugly face to avoid spirits. Right?

"I was." Watanuki let the ice bag fall to the floor as he shuffled onto his side. "Really, you can - ow-" He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "You can go to sleep. I manage on my own, a lot. I'll just sleep..."

No response was forthcoming immediately. Watanuki thought that maybe Doumeki was going to listen to him, or at least, sit quietly so that he could sleep when-

"No."

"... What?" Watanuki peeled open his eyes again.

Doumeki's eyebrows knitted together. "You don't have to be alone now," he said slowly, as if he was thinking hard about each word.

But Watanuki wasn't focussing on that. Because _you don't have to be alone_. When was the last time he'd been sick, like this, that he hadn't had to take care of himself? Spirit-induced illness notwithstanding... Yuuko was always really good about that... but he hadn't had parents, or anyone, for what seemed like ages.

His eyes stung.

His lips turned down in the corners. He frantically pulled the blanket up over his face, squeezing his eyes shut. He forced himself to draw in a breath that still shook, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat. Being sick really did interfere with his emotional state.

"... You still need to sleep," he forced himself to say. "You have school." Mostly he was saying it for the hope that Doumeki would leave him, even though he, subconsciously, knew that he wouldn't.

"I'll stay home."

"You don't need to."

"It doesn't matter."

Watanuki laughed weakly. "Man... can't you take a hint...?"

Doumeki was silent. And then there was the shuffling of fabric, and footsteps as Doumeki's steps got further away. Was he actually... _listening_ to him? The door slid open, and then closed.

Watanuki sighed shakily, pressing his fingers against his eyes. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be done with this fever and get back to school and Himawari-chan. He felt horrible. He was just going to go back to sleep.

He must have managed to doze, at least for a few minutes, because he was startled back into consciousness and Doumeki was kneeling next to him, unrolling another futon.

"What are you doing...?" he rasped, squinting up at Doumeki's back.

"Going to sleep." Doumeki glanced back at him. "That's what you told me to do, isn't it?"

"But why are you ... the futon..."

"Yuuko told me to watch you." Just like it was that simple. But apparently with Doumeki, it was, of course.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it like that."

"Go back to sleep." Doumeki flung his own blankets aside, settling down on the futon next to him. He fell silent, then, settling the blankets over his shoulders, folding his hands on his chest. He stared up at the ceiling without moving a muscle.

It was a more than a little irritating. But Watanuki didn't feel like rolling over so his back would be to Doumeki, and he was still half asleep to argue with him. He ended up falling asleep before either of them spoke again.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again - it was frightfully reoccuring, falling asleep when he didn't mean to - Doumeki was fast asleep.

Probably not such a strange realization in itself. It had to be late. But the way that Doumeki... well, _slept_. It was... different. Weird. He was curled on his side, facing Watanuki, his fingers curled around the edge of his pillow. Lips parted ever-so-slightly for the nearly silent inhale and exhale of his breath, hair tousled in what could only be described as bedhead. He looked, he looked...

 _Normal_.

He just didn't look like his usual jerkish self, Watanuki guessed. He wasn't all beady-eyed and untrustworthy. He was just kind of like the average teenager.

... Okay, that was _way_ too weird.

"... Stop staring at me."

Watanuki jumped, having enough presence about himself to feel his cheeks burn in his otherwise frigid state. "What are you doing, I thought you were asleep!" he hissed, pulling at his blanket. "Don't fake sleep, why are you so creepy? _Ugh_."

"I wasn't the one staring at anyone sleeping." Doumeki's eyes slitted, although exhaustion clung on tenaciously in his gaze. "You woke me up."

"I didn't say anything!"

Doumeki's eyes drifted closed again. "Go back to sleep," he said bluntly.

"I will, but not because you told me to," Watanuki hissed, painstakingly shuffling onto his other side so that he didn't have to face sleeping Doumeki. That jerk.

* * *

Something was being sat down next to the futon.

"... Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Watanuki stared up at Doumeki wearily. "... What time is it?"

"Half past six."

"Do you always get up this early when you don't go to school?" Watanuki propped himself up on his elbow, reaching for the cup of water that was set next to the futon.

"Yes."

"Of course." Watanuki sighed. He sipped at the water and set it back down, reaching first for his glasses and then to rub his eyes.

"Go back to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep."

That wasn't true. It was more true than it had been the day prior, when he had barely been able to drag himself out of the shop let alone through a school day, but he was still sick and tired. But it was at least partially true, because he was exhausted of sleeping in Doumeki's futon with beady eyes staring down at him.

"Then don't." Doumeki stood. "I'll be having breakfast."

"Can you actually... cook?" Watanuki asked slowly, looking up at him.

Doumeki looked down at him for a long moment, before- "Of course."

"Then why do I always have to make bento for you?" Watanuki griped. Of course, Doumeki paid him no attention, padding from the room without another word. Watanuki sighed and laid back down, folding his arm beneath his head.

He hated being sick. It was boring. He liked being busy, he was used to being busy. Especially after becoming Yuuko's part-timer... eesh. He hated being sick, he was sick at Doumeki's, he was sick and bored at Doumeki's.

He sighed. He didn't know how this could get any worse.

* * *

Inevitably, it did, as he only just made it to a trash can to throw up as Doumeki sat calmly in the room, eating his breakfast. Less calm when Watanuki had scrambled up, and it had even broken his methodical chewing, but it didn't change the fact.

He fell face first back into the blankets to block out the smell of breakfast, and conveniently didn't notice when Doumeki set it aside in favour of returning to his bedside.

* * *

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Watanuki mumbled, nursing a cup of hot tea with shaking hands. His entire body was shaking. There wasn't really a reason. The fever tearing through his body. He knew the tea wasn't helping, but he needed something. Something comforting. He wasn't sure how much longer he could do this.

He'd already bypassed the twenty-four hour mark since waking up feeling unwell. He was taking the medication regularly, but... how long did this _last_? _Longer than a day_ , his mind provided, but he just wanted to go _home_.

"You look worse."

"I feel worse." Was he actually having a civil conversation with Doumeki? Uhh. "I just need more sleep," he added, and gulped at his tea. It burned his throat and he shivered. "Just sleep... you should have went to school."

Doumeki rest his hands on his knees. "Should I call Yuuko?"

Watanuki raised his head at the chance. "Yes." But if he asked Yuuko for help, he'd owe her even more. "No." But he didn't want to stay here. "... I don't know." He would later studiously deny that his words came out closer to a moan, or that his hands shook around the cup of tea.

Doumeki reached over and plucked the cup of tea away. "Go sleep."

He wanted to say that he wanted his tea, but he didn't. He wanted to say that he didn't want to sleep, but he did. He made it as far as Doumeki's futon before making a promise that he wasn't going to move unless it was absolutely necessary, and he was going to get better immediately and leave. He just needed... to sleep first.

* * *

He woke up with a start, jerking from the non-reality of fever dreams, gasping for breath. Pain lanced through his stomach and he curled his arms around it, struggling to differentiate what was really happening with what had been a dream.

"Fevers peak at night."

There was the irritating, ever monotone voice that he was getting too used to hearing lately. Watanuki couldn't respond to it. He just curled his face into the pillows and squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to be over.

... Like that'd happen. Wishful thinking. Wishful... wish...

"You'll feel better in a few hours."

For once, he chose to believe that Doumeki knew what he was talking about.

* * *

"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes."

Watanuki blinked his eyes open slowly. He knew that voice, and he knew that it wasn't Doumeki's. So...

"Yuuko...?" he mumbled. His mouth was dry, and his head was throbbing behind his eyes.

"Hello." Yuuko smiled slightly, leaning against the far wall. She was clad in a dark blue kimono embroidered with delicate yellow bumblebees. Were they bumblebees? Or were they birds...?

Watanuki's head really hurt. "What are you doing here...?" he mumbled. He wanted to sit up, but it felt like too much effort.

"I was in the neighborhood," Yuuko replied absently, and if Watanuki had been more conscious, he wouldn't have bought it at all. "Doumeki hadn't been in touch. I figured that he was busy with you, but I had no idea that you were running him so ragged."

Watanuki stared up at her uncomprehendingly, before realizing that her gaze wasn't directed at him. He painstakingly followed her gaze to her point of interest, and there was

Doumeki.

Sprawled halfway across his futon, shirt falling away from his shoulder, hair tousled and a compress still in his hand. He looked exhausted, and uncomfortable, and like he had fallen asleep right in the middle of taking care of Watanuki.

Watanuki stared for a long, tired moment. Then he swung his eyes back to Yuuko, looking at her wearily. "... I told him not to," he mumbled.

"He didn't listen."

"He doesn't..." Watanuki sighed heavily. "... He annoys me so much."

Yuuko smiled in a way that Watanuki couldn't seem to understand. "Indeed," she said shortly, and pushed away from the wall to crouch down next to him. "Has he been taking good care of my Watanuki?"

"Not your... Watanuki," he mumbled, his eyes slipping closed as Yuuko pressed her hand against his head. People were doing that a lot lately. He really was pathetic.

"Yes, he's been doing a fine job." Yuuko removed her hand. "Your fever's gone down. It's morning, but I think that you're on the mend."

Watanuki hummed. True that he didn't feel as bad, but he was still too tired to try and have a conversation with her, or anyone else.

"Go back to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up." That was the second time that someone had told him that. He hoped that they were right. Ugh. He hoped...

"I'm going to owe you so much for the time off," Watanuki mumbled. He could barely speak. How could he sleep so much?

Yuuko laughed softly. "Oh. Undoubtedly."

* * *

 **A/N I have so many feels about this fandom right now. Oh gosh. I can't even. I'm not sure that I ever could, tbh.**


	4. Chapter 4

When Watanuki woke up again, Yuuko was gone and he was left wondering if he had dreamt the whole thing. But Doumeki was still asleep in the futon next to him, and Watanuki _did_ feel a tiny bit better. Hungry, he added to himself, as his stomach growled and he frowned slightly, pressing his hand against his stomach. That was a good sign, though. Of course, that meant he probably had to cook for himself...

He glanced over at Doumeki again, his frown growing more pronounced at the great brute. He looked uncomfortable. Which served him right, but... well...

Watanuki groaned, reaching over for Doumeki's shoulder. He'd hate himself later if he didn't. "Doumeki," he hissed. "Hey."

Doumeki startled awake from the moment that Watanuki shook his shoulder. "What?" He managed to hit that same, flat tone, although now marred by half sleep and confusion.

"Didn't I tell you to go to sleep, _like a normal person_?" Watanuki retorted. "You're halfway onto the floor, I should have left you there."

"Oh." Doumeki pushed himself up, rubbing his shoulder. "How are you feeling? Still sick?"

"Yes," Watanuki groused. "Better. I think Yuuko was here."

Doumeki looked at him blankly.

He might not feel well, but the look was enough to draw his proverbial hackles back up. Again. "What? She was! She was standing right there talking to me!"

"Maybe you were hallucinating." Doumeki stood up fluidly.

"I was not hallucinating!" Watanuki hissed, slumping over to press his knuckles against his forehead. "Can I just go home?"

"Is your fever gone?"

Watanuki pressed the heel of his hand against his skin. "I don't know." He still felt unnecessarily cool, but he wasn't shaking like he had been the night prior. His stomach chose the moment to growl again. He huffed softly, turning away as Doumeki looked at him. "Shut up. I haven't eaten." Jeez, it wasn't his fault, why did his face have to flush over his stomach growling?

"Mm." Doumeki turned away, padding from the room without another word.

Watanuki scowled after him. He really did want to go home and now that he felt like it, he would crawl if he had to. Instead, he huffed and swept the thermometer from its resting place of a tray nearby - which held a dried-out compress, a bowl of water, and the cold medication - to shove under his tongue. Maybe if he didn't have the fever, Doumeki would let him leave. (As if he could make him stay! ... Hmph.)

Doumeki returned in time to watch Watanuki remove the thermometer from his mouth to squint at the little numbers. It was with some trepidation that he did so; it was something that he would still never get used to.

"Well?"

"It's thirty-seven point seven." Watanuki blew out a breath. "My temperature runs high, though, a little..."

"... Would have been nice to know," Doumeki muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." He crossed the room. "I'll walk you home when I go to school."

"I don't need you to walk me home," Watanuki retorted. Naturally, as he was saying that, he was trying to fight the blankets away and only ended up with them tangled more helplessly around his feet. He groaned and kicked them away roughly, sighing shakily when it execerbated all the aches and pains still stabbing at his body.

"When I leave for school," Doumeki repeated.

"My apartment's the other way."

Doumeki shrugged, and left the room via the kitchen.

As much as he loathed the thought of having to _walk home with Doumeki_... if it hadn't been for Doumeki the other day, Watanuki would have ended up unconscious in the street. Maybe it was better to let him... walk him... home...

"Nnnngh, why can't it be with Himawari?" he groaned, clomping his way back to the toilet.

Nothing was ever with Himawari, that was why. He had begun to think that the universe just hated him. Heck, he knew that it did. He could see spirits, for crying out loud!

Watanuki wandered back to his desolate futon, wishing he could brush his teeth but then realizing how damn weird that would be if he _did_ have a toothbrush at Doumeki's house-

Which reminded him... where was everyone at? Doumeki lived with his parents, didn't he, but... Watanuki hadn't seen his parents at all. Maybe he had just been out of it and hadn't noticed, but... it kind of seemed like they were the only ones there.

He painstakingly pulled himself from the futon - and really, it was too weird to sit in Doumeki's house without Doumeki being in the room, what was he supposed to do, sit and stare at the wall? - and followed Doumeki into the kitchen.

"Hey, where are your parents-" Watanuki stopped at the sight in front of him.

Doumeki. Cooking. He really could cook.

He could cook?!

Doumeki glanced over his shoulder. "You should be resting," he said flatly, and looked back at the stove.

"Wa-Wait a minute." Watanuki gripped onto the counter. "What are you..." He trailed off, looking at the steaming steamer nearby. "... What?" He loomed over the steamer, reaching for the lid.

"Don't," Doumeki interrupted.

Watanuki's fingers paused. Was he _really_ hallucinating? "Are you making _rice_?"

"Yes."

"You can..."

"Potatoes in the miso soup."

"Miso soup?" Watanuki repeated dumbly. He was still a little feverish. Dizzy, weak from being on his feet. Maybe he was still really sick...

"Go sit down."

Watanuki decided to go sit down.

Ten minutes of staring blankly at the wall later didn't nullify his surprise when Doumeki came in with the breakfast that he had been preparing. He really had steamed the rice and made miso soup with potato. Watanuki didn't even know that he _knew_ how to steam rice and make miso soup with potato. Okay, he probably should have, it was basic cooking, it was breakfast, but... but...

"There's umeboshi if you want it."

"Eh?" Watanuki blinked. "Um, no. You..." He trailed off. He'd expressed his surprise already, and he didn't really like giving gratitude to the guy, but...

"Tea will be ready soon."

Watanuki blew out a breath that was meant to be a huff. It came out pathetically thin, but he reached for the bowl with a quiet "Thank you for the food".

"It was nothing."

As loathe as he was to admit, the food was delicious. So Doumeki could cook. He really could cook. So-

"Why do I have to make you lunch everyday when your food is this good?" he demanded weakly, chasing down a piece of seaweed with his chopsticks.

Doumeki shrugged listlessly. "I like yours better."

Watanuki ogled at him.

Doumeki did a double take when he noticed that Watanuki was still staring at him. "... What?"

"Oh." Watanuki looked away, staring into the dregs of his soup. "Nothing."

"Hm." Doumeki stood without another word, going back into the kitchen.

Watanuki expected that he would come back with tea in a few short moments, and for once, he wouldn't be in charge of pouring it for them, but Doumeki would do it instead.

"You never answered," he said when Doumeki rejoined him with the aforementioned tea. "Where's your parents?"

Doumeki shrugged. "Mom's around the temple."

"And your dad?"

"Gone."

"Oh."

Doumeki's statement was said in the most blunt of tones, and Watanuki wasn't sure if he meant gone by no longer living with them, or living in Japan, or gone as in passed away. Despite his own circumstances regarding his parents, Watanuki wasn't comfortable enough to ask. But it was strange... even if his father wasn't in the picture, his mom was, even if it didn't seem like it. Did Doumeki not get on with his family?

If that was true, then that was just...

... sad.

"If you don't want your rice, I have cornflakes," Doumeki said.

Watanuki glanced up at him. "What?" He looked down at his rice. "Oh... No... wait. You just want to eat my portion of rice, don't you?" he demanded, reaching for the food.

Doumeki rolled his eyes.

Watanuki almost didn't notice it, but he did and between the rice and the tea and the soup and the caretaking... he didn't pull him up on it.

Just this once.

* * *

 **I'm sorry that my muse kind of puttered out on the recovery, but that's all for this sick!fic. I hope that you all enjoyed it~ There doesn't seem to be enough sick!Watanuki fic out there. (and also I have headcanons about Doumeki's parents, okay, deal with me here) Thank you all for your reviews, follows, and favourites. They mean a lot, especially coming from this fandom. :)**

 **I do not own _xxxHolic_. Thanks for reading!**


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